Ianto Jones' Diary
by WhateverMary13
Summary: Have you ever wondered what was inside Ianto's Diary? Take a look inside everyone's favorite Welshman's thoughts. Ianto/Jack. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Ianto Jones' Diary  
Format:** This story will be publised with five entries at a time because I didn't know how to better organize it. Some entries will be long and some will be short.  
**Pairing: **Ianto/Jack  
**Spoilers:** For everything basically: Torchwood Seasons 1-3, Doctor Who 1-4, The Novels, The Radio plays, random information released online, and even some well-known fanfiction from the fandom (Material other than the season's isn't required to understand the plot).  
**A/N:** Starts after Cyberwoman so it's a bit angst-ridden at first. Other notes: it operates under Gareth-David Lloyd's assumption that Jack and Ianto were having sex before the events of Cyberwoman.  
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**Torchwood Probation Protocol 12**: An employee must meet with a Torchwood psychologist or in the absence of one a UNIT psychologist as often as necessary, until cleared for duty by both the head of the Torchwood station and the psychologist. After reinstatement they will continue to attend weekly meetings for a period of at least two months.

Apparently "Captain Jack" decided that Torchwood Three is now following Torchwood protocol. Today, Doctor Davies from UNIT broke into my flat. He seemed to be under the impression that this was the only way he would be able to have a face-to-face interaction with me.

_"My office has called to confirm appointments with you several times this week." He said: wrinkling his nose distastefully at the run down, one room, crumbling flat.  
I took a swig from a cheap can of beer, "I never made any appointments."  
Davies ignored him and asked, "From what I hear: Torchwood pays quite well: why do you have such a shit flat?"  
"Is shit a medical term?" I asked: tossing the empty can on the stained cement floor. Ianto reached behind to sofa and pulled out another can from the refrigerator, "Want one?"  
"No thank you," Davies replied, pulling the dining room chair around next to the couch.  
"Good," I snapped open the can, "I'm recently out of a job so I couldn't really afford it."  
"I've spoken to your boss: Captain Harkness," Davies told me, "Would he have sent me over here if you were out of a job?"  
"He hasn't made up his mind yet," I downed his beer and frowned at the taste, "That doesn't mean anything."_

It was a rather embarrassing first encounter for my part. I vaguely recall telling him that a water mark on my ceiling looked identical to Jack's cock. Thankfully, he tactfully avoided asking how I knew this information and instead shoved me fully dressed into a cold shower. I had been wearing the same suit since the incident, torn, covered in blood, and soaked with sweat, but I still protested the further damage to the Italian tailored silk-cotton blend.

I'm not much of a talker and the idea of spilling my guts to a stranger sounded not only unappealing, but rather like an extreme form of narcissism. I said as much to Davies and he came up with the "brilliant" idea of diary writing. A week ago I would have immediately protested the term diary. Now, I don't have any dignity left to be wounded by such a term and calling it a journal would just be one more lie for me to tell myself (though I suppose the routine would be familiar). I don't know who Jack thinks he is fooling by calling his diary a Captain's Log... just because he files them in the archives

We're the same when I think about it: Jack and I. Both of us monsters, hiding our secrets in the basement of the HUB, and shagging each other's brains out in a vain struggle to grasp some sort of normality: Trying desperately to feel something and to forget about the darkness.

Ianto Jones.

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Owen came by the flat yesterday. He rang the bell until I answered. Owen was the last person I would have expected, but the most welcome (largely because he brought alcohol). Apparently Davies submitted an initial evaluation of my mental health to Torchwood, and Owen, being the medic, had been on the receiving end of my report. He told me about his fiancée, Katie, and how he would have done anything to save her. Of course I already knew this, I had read it his files when I did background checks on all of the Torchwood employees, but I listened silently.

When he had finished he passed me a bottle of vodka. We sat there drinking for awhile before he decided it was time to criticize my flat. Apparently nobody considered the cost of secretly moving your half converted cyber-woman girlfriend to London, reconstructing a conversion unit into a life support system, and getting the leading professor in cybernetics to fly out for a week long engagement. With the added cost of hand tailored suits, even with Torchwood's sizeable salary, I would be in debt for at least another year.

Hopefully, if Jack decides to Retcon me, Torchwood will pay off my debts in order to alleviate suspicion. I wonder if they will erase just my Torchwood Three memories when they dump me in a hospital with "amnesia" or if they will erase me all the way back to birth (the amount of Retcon that it would take to erase all my Torchwood memories will cause me to forget my own name).

Owen left after an hour, but left the vodka with me. I don't remember the rest of the evening. I woke up in the morning and thought for a moment that the vodka had Retcon in it. I laughed.

Ianto Jones.

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I heard from another member of Torchwood today. Toshiko sent me an e-mail. I've posted it below:

_To: _  
_From: _  
_Subject: Hope you're doing well_

_Ianto,_

_I was going to stop by your flat today, but I realized I didn't know where you lived. I thought about looking it up in your file, but I decided that you might want to be left alone. Jack is refusing to talk to any of us, but I'm sure that you'll be back at work soon (Even if it is just because he has bags under his eyes from the caffeine withdrawal). We all miss you: especially Myfanwy. She hasn't been eating properly and just sits in her nest brooding._

_None of us can make heads or tails of the coffee machine. Gwen started tinkering with it yesterday, but then Jack yelled at her. I've never seen her at a loss for words: you would have enjoyed it. Owen has been even crankier without you: he complains about the lack of coffee and the cleanliness of the Hub every two seconds._

_We all took for granted everything that you do around here. The place is falling apart without you. Feel free to call me if you would like to talk._

_From,  
Tosh_

I sent a generic reply and am expecting that this polite message from her was just a prelude and her reply to that will be a variety of questions about the workings of Torchwood. Things only I know such as: the codes to the archives, the place I take the dry cleaning, and what gets blood out of the cement floor of the Hub. Maybe if I don't answer they'll send Gwen: after all she is the "heart of Torchwood".

That was rude of me. Apparently I'm now a mean drunk. That's rather unfortunate. I remember I used to be funny when I was drunk. Back when I was funny: before Canary Warf.

Ianto Jones.

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I saw the SUV today: parked outside my flat with Jack in the driver's seat. It was there for hours. After three hours of watching it: I got up and made myself some pasta. It was the first real food I had in a week.

Ianto Jones.

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The SUV was parked outside my flat again on Tuesday. I took an hour long shower. It was there on Wednesday. I shaved. After seeing it there on Thursday I stopped drinking and only partly because I ran out of beer.

Today I saw it and went on a walk. The SUV followed behind me as I walked down to the corner of the street and then back up to the door of my building. I stood on the stoop for a few minutes and breathed in the air. Tomorrow I think I will pick up some groceries.

On Thursday, Doctor Davies asked me what is causing the turn around. I didn't tell him about Jack even though he must have seen the SUV with its conspicuous 'Torchwood' engraving on the side. He brought pizza with him and rubbed my back as I had to run to the toilet at the sight of coleslaw. He rubbed my back as I puked bile into the porcelain bowl.

I had been throwing up every few hours since the incident but this is the first time I was sent violently back to scrubbing blood out of the floor of the hub. My stomach heaving unpleasantly as I threw up into the bucket of bloody water. Jack came over and sat behind me; his hand resting firmly on my lower back as I emptied to contents of my stomach.

Ianto Jones.

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	2. Chapter 2

Owen came by again. He didn't bring alcohol with him this time. I tidied the flat so we could sit at the rickety wooden chairs next to the rickety wooden table. I made us fish and chips and we talked about rugby. We argued about who the better James Bond actor is (Sean Connery of course: I'll never understand why he believes it is Timothy Dalton of all Bonds).

It felt so normal. He left around eleven and I spent the rest of the evening throwing up in the toilet: For the few hours Owen was there I forgot about Lisa, but I never stopped thinking about Jack.

I spent the rest of the evening bonding with the chipped tile of my lavatory.

Ianto Jones.

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I got a text message from Jack today.

_To: You  
From: Jack_  
Ianto – Report for duty at six thirty on Monday. Your pass codes have been revoked: wait outside the Tourist Office.

I would like to think that I'm conflicted about going into work tomorrow. I've already cleaned out a thermos so I can bring Jack coffee in the morning.

Ianto Jones.

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Jack didn't drink my coffee. I handed him the thermos and watched as he poured it out on the cement outside of the Tourist office. As he did so he told me the rules of my working probation:

1. I am not allowed in the Hub alone  
2. I am to arrive at six thirty in the morning and leave at six thirty at night. Jack will check me in and log me out.  
3. I am not allowed in any CCTV blind spots. The CCTV will be routed down the Archives and the Tourist Office and any bathroom breaks I may need to take must be approved by Jack

Jack watched me from the upper floor of the HUB as I began to clear away the rubbish that had accumulated during my absence. It seemed nobody thought to clean anything while I was away. Toshiko came in first and awkwardly offered me a coffee before retreating to her station.

Gwen came in next and gave me a tight smile before heading straight up to Jack with obvious intention of questioning him about my return. It seems that Tosh's assessment of him not talking was wrong since he seemed to be carrying on a conversation with Gwen easily. Owen's arrival was the most embarrassing though his treatment of me was the most normal.

_"Good you're back," He said dumping his Starbucks cup into the rubbish bin, "Make yourself useful and get me some proper coffee."  
"I can't." I told him quietly.  
"What do you mean you can't?" Owen grumbled, "You're the only one who knows how to work the bloody machine."  
"I'm not allowed in the kitchen."  
Owen frowned at him and then glanced up at Jack's office: "Why the fuck not?"  
I shrugged and weakly joked, "Maybe Jack's afraid I'll try and take over the world with the scale that's built up in the kettle while I was away.  
_  
That perhaps was not the best comment to make, because Owen gave me a disgusted look and disappeared into the medical bay. Though, I suppose the disgruntled look might have been aimed toward Jack due to the lack of coffee.

I spent the rest of the day in the Tourist Office and my hour lunch break sitting at Jubilee Pizza: not eating. I returned to the Hub, my eyes red from crying, and avoided facing the camera. Jack showed up promptly at six thirty and let me out without a word.

Ianto Jones.

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_Captain's Log Excerpt: Ianto Jones is temporarily suspended from active duty, to return at my discretion. His love for Lisa clouded his judgment, and he made some serious mistakes – but I have to wonder if I would have done the same thing in his situation. Ianto's personal needs and emotional state have been overlooked. I should not have missed something like this. During his suspension I will try to spend more time with him. Hopefully we can establish a closer working relationship._

Jack must have realized that I would read his Archive notes when he left them on my desk to file in the archives. Therefore I had no qualms about reading them. Apparently, Jack intended to visit with me over the course of my suspension. This obviously did not come to fruition because I spent more time bonding with the inside of my toilet bowl than with Jack.

What is interesting is that he was suffering over what I can only assume is a continued delusion that he is actually being nice to me. Frankly, he's been a cock (I'm quite glad that we are no longer sleeping together anymore so I don't have to deal with the mood). Though, I suppose, even if the incident had never happened, Gwen would be the one putting up with his moods soon enough. Speaking of Gwen, bless her, she has no idea how to act around me despite all of her "heart". On the other hand, Owen has been surprisingly considerate (albeit only in private) and Tosh even bought me a coffee (not that I drank it).

I didn't throw up today. It was a nice change of pace.

Ianto Jones.

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Jack apologized today, and revoked the terms of my probation. Then I kissed him.

I would like to say that the kissing him portion of my statement was a modified form of the expression: "I could have kissed him" rather than an actual event. However, I'm busy pretending that I did not puke all over his greatcoat immediately after. I hope that he is offended that the touch of his mouth incited unfortunate bowel movements in me. I hope is coat is so stained that the dry cleaner sends it back.

Doctor Davies told me that I should focus on positive thoughts, but I can't help it: the bastard didn't kiss me back. For all of his apologies: Jack flinched at my touch. I'm such a monster that even Jack can't bear to touch me. Jack who has been sodomized by tentacles and acrobats and spaceships thinks that I'm wrong…

Rift notes: I discovered a funny sort of weather patterns today: Will look into them tomorrow

Ianto Jones.

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	3. Chapter 3

I stayed at work yesterday to finish up the program I had created to synthesize the weather patterns I was tracking. Jack appeared as I had finished up and was running the scans: confirming my belief that he actually lives in that submarine hatch we used the few times we had made it to a bed. He rested his hand on my shoulder as he peered at my computer screen. It was the first time he had touched me without disgust or malice since the incident. Suffice to say, I was startled.

It turns out the weather patterns I had researched were caused by "Mara" which is to say, colloquially: Evil bad-ass fairies. Jack is terrified of them. I can tell. So few things frighten Jack that the fact these creatures have shaken him up so much...well suffice to say I'm a bit afraid as well. I asked him why they scare him so much and he looked at me, his eyes darkening with the horrors he must have seen in his long life, and he said to me: "I can't fight them Ianto. Even Daleks can be killed with the right weapons, but against these creatures...I'm useless. I can't protect any of you."

Jack Would have noble fears. Not like me.

Ianto Jones.

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When the team came back none of them were talking to Jack. None of them understand the nature of the burden of sacrifice. Not like I do. Jack was moping in his office so I brought him my special coffee blend in a blue-white striped mug I bought on a whim at the shop when restocking on coffee. This time he drank it and allowed me to sit on the edge of his desk while he told me bits and pieces of half-remembered stories.

Ianto Jones.

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Jack had me dig up camping supplies out of the basement today. He followed me around like an excited puppy while I loaded various gear into the SUV. He frowned when I packed four sleeping rolls into the trunk and, along with a lavish wink, he said something along the lines of: "You're coming too Ianto: or were you hoping to share my bed roll."

I should be glad that Jack is flirting again, it's a sign of normality returning, but I can't help but focus on the fact that I really don't want to go. However, instead of protesting, my traitorous mouth smiled at said: "That would be harassment, sir." Then I packed another sleeping roll.

I hate camping. Lisa and I used to go camping together all the time, because she loved it or maybe she knew that they were the only trips I could afford to take her. we were saving up for a new flat. I don't want Torchwood to pervert that memory for me, not that it hasn't already. It's not my place to protest my orders though, I lost that right. So, I dug out an old windbreaker from the basement along with a pair of work boots.

**Rift Activit****y**: Tosh discovered an increase of missing persons in the Breacon Beacons – rift expanding? – Jack seems to have decided that this was an ample opportunity for "team bonding" hence the camping.

Ianto Jones.

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I knew that I shouldn't have gone. Though, at least my first mission went better than Gwen's did (at least when measured by number of deaths). I've decided it is not fair: I did nothing wrong, sacrificed myself to help save Tosh, and almost got eaten by cannibals. Gwen let a sex alien loose, was relatively useless, and she got a snog out of it. Though I guess we all found out on this trip that snogging is Gwen's thing…

I'm being rude again, and I would like to attribute that to blood loss, but I was being rude before that. I was being rude and snippy all day. Jack gave me a pissy look earlier because I said that Lisa was my last snog, but I stand by it. The pressing my lips against his and him not responding does not count as a snog.

That perhaps, was not the most significant event since my last entry: Tosh and I were captured (by cannibals) held prisoner (by cannibals), and I head-butted a large man (who was a cannibal) to help Tosh escape. While she was gone I was severely beaten with a wooden bat (by a cannibal). Then Jack showed up and saved the day (by killing the cannibals). I suppose I'm not ready to process any of that yet, which is why Jack's pissy look came first in my account of the events.

Gwen (who somehow managed to get shot by an adolescent) and Owen and Jack rode in the ambulance back. Tosh and I took the SUV to check out the lunch van we had stopped at the day before (and gotten meat pies at). It was abandoned so Tosh and I took a sample. She laughed and told me: "I told you not to eat the meat pies." I wondered if I would get sick. Instead, I stumbled to the side and almost passed out. Tosh forced me into the passenger side of the van and called Owen on the comms.

Owen was furious: he hadn't seemed to realize I had lost so much blood and blamed me for saying I was okay to finish the mission. He was busy paying more attention to Gwen. It is okay: people usually pay more attention to Gwen (she's much louder than I am).

Jack just showed up at my door. He's knocking quite loudly. Maybe I should answer

Ianto Jones.

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I didn't end up answering the door when Jack knocked so he unlocked my door with his wriststrap. I was sitting on the edge of my bed (my flat not being large enough for a sofa) and had just dumped my diary on the side table. He sank down beside me without a word so that our thighs were pressed together from waist to knee and he grasped my hang tightly in his larger one.

After a moment he turned to look at me, his eyes burning into every inch of skin as he checked over my injuries. I tried not to flinch as he ran the soft pad of his thumb over the gash on my throat

_"I'm having flashbacks to when we first met all of a sudden. Except it was the other way around." I told him, my voice shaking a bit as I met his gaze.  
"Except you're still bleeding." His voice was cracked and his eyes were moist. After a long pause he continued, "If I had been even a second later you would have died."_

He looked down at our tightly twined hands, but I pulled his face back up towards mine and pressed our foreheads together. As I looked into his eyes I forgot that he had gone with Gwen and not me, I forgot that he hadn't even asked if I was okay, and I forgot that I inteded on yelling at him upon our next encounter. Instead, I kissed him softly.

We ended up fucking hard and fast on the bed, rutting wildly agaisnt each other, reminding each other that I was alive. We fucked so hard that we both passed out on the bed afterwards. He was still there when the stifling heat of our naked bodies woke me in the middle of the night, but he was gone by the time my alarm beeped in the morning.

Ianto Jones

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	4. Chapter 4

Owen and Gwen are fucking which is new. Which in itself is an expected occurrence, but it's the fact that they're fucking each other that has come as a complete surprise. She never seemed terribly devoted to that boyfriend Rhys of hers that she is always going on about but I rather thought that she would have some consideration for poor sweet Tosh (and the way she pines after Own) or at least for her palpable sexual tension with Jack.

They don't seem to be hiding it very well, but hopefully Tosh doesn't notice. She was miserable when Owen started shagging Suzie.

**Rift Activity**: Quiet mostly. Jack and I went Weevil hunting.

Ianto Jones.

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Today was one of the bad days. I reckon it might have been stimulated by delayed guilt from sleeping with Jack. Lisa knew about our shenanigans before the Incident: she suggested them actually in order to distract Jack and to prevent him from discovering her. Doctor Davies told me that it is normal to have bad days, but I had grown so used to the constant pain, like my stomach full of rats, that I assumed these were the bad days. Therefore I was unprepared for this sudden plunge into melancholy. Davies had offered to prescribe me antidepressants, but I refused. However, on days like this I sometimes wish that I had taken him up on his offer.

I just want to be happy again. Davies suggested that I try things I used to enjoy before the accident, so I fucked Jack against the cabinets in the archives.

Ianto Jones.

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Tosh has been acting a bit odd recently, but I'm attributing that to the fact that Gwen and Owen are fucking. Despite this, she has a "recently-shagged" look about her. I'll let her have her secrets though: she deserves to have a bit of privacy.

In other news, I discovered that Torchwood operations have become a part of Torchwood's security briefings to the Leader of the Opposition. I deferred this information to Jack and then listened in as he insulted the Prime Minister's intelligence. I think I might be discovering some sort of a power kink because half-way through the call I dropped to my knees and sucked him off from under the desk for the remaining duration of the call.

Ianto Jones.

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Jack left soon after Gwen did for the evening, probably up to the roof, but Owen stayed late working on the body they had discovered a few days ago. I never thought I would see Owen spending extra time on a case, but something about this seems to have tickled his fancy.

Speaking of Owen, he just called the ranks back into work so back to the HUB I go.

Ianto Jones.

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We talked after Jack sent Mary to the center of the sun, Tosh and I, before Gwen and Owen accosted her about their affair. I thought about offering her membership to the "my-boss-killed-my-girlfriend-club" but I didn't think that she would appreciate the humor so soon. Instead I helped her fill out the necessary paperwork and listened to her tell me about Mary. During my probation I wished that the rest of the team could feel just a fraction of what I was feeling, but after this I realize that I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

Jack went off to have his turn with Tosh and I ended up falling asleep on the ratty sofa beneath the tiled Torchwood sign in the center of the Hub as I waited for Jack to return – I was determined to use sex as an escape again. Jack didn't wake me upon his return so it wasn't until morning that I blinked my eyes open to find myself covered with Jack's greatcoat. We're not supposed to be like that, Jack and I , our situation consists of fast-paced fucking in the shadows, not tucking each other into bed.

It was nice though.

Ianto Jones.

-

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Jack is no longer allowed to access the Torchwood Ebay Account. I was carefully bidding on what the archives called a "Dogon Sixth Eye" when he completely cocked up my careful strategy by logging on and immediately bidding the entire 15,000 pounds on the budget report allots for archive retrieval via internet shopping. We were the promptly out-bidded.

Jack apologized profusely, whining that he had always wanted to try one out and that he got a bit excited. I told him that if he wanted one for personal use he should empty his own pockets instead of the Queen's coffers. He looked like he was about to do just that, but then police alerts sounded about a Weevil in the park.

We're about to leave to go Weevil hunting, and if it ends up like last time I'll get a chance to "punish" him for the Ebay issue while we're out.

Ianto Jones.

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It seems that Suzy is wrapped up in yet another mess. Sometimes I feel like Torchwood causes more deaths than it prevents. That was more than true for the Torchwood Institute, but I was told things were different at Torchwood Three. Not that much different it seems.

I suppose I should start from the beginning.

There have been murders and above their dead bodies was the name 'Torchwood' written in blood containing Retcon. Nobody thought to inform me that the boardroom meeting had started so I wandered in late, but was still expected to announce off-hand how many people we have administered the amnesia drug to – 2008 and counting – while honestly I'm surprised that none of them knew that rather information. Though I suppose, I'm the one spending hours doing follow-ups (Jack, for one, never considers the aftermath, like with Gwen. If he had just waited until she had fallen asleep I wouldn't have had to bother to stay at work to erase her computer records: at least she just did the computer. I would have had to pull an all-nighter if she had decided to tell someone.

Gwen suggested that we bring out the Resurrection gauntlet. Owen promptly forgot that I had never tried the glove, but I was more than happy to let Gwen have a go without mentioning this information (there was no bloody way in hell that I am EVER trying on the Risen Mitten).

The team just left to go search through all of Suzie's things. Of course, I was told to stay at the HUB, despite the fact that I was the one who packed away all of her things and delivered them to the warehouse and would therefore be aptly qualified to discover any needed materials (not to mention months in the archives aimed at finding needed materials amongst chaos).

I kept silent though. I don't really deserve to be part of the team, but it's nice to be able to complain here about the under appreciation of my services.

Ianto Jones.

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Suzie didn't mention me when she asked Tosh about the team. I always had the feeling that she knew I was up to something, but allowed me to go about my business out of sheer curiosity. I wonder if she believed I was still keeping secrets or if I had done my job as well as I thought and I had simply became a unnoticeable fixture of Torchwood: much like Myfanwy.

I kept in the Tourist Office while they went off to capture Suzie's friend Max. This wasn't out of any desire to avoid the woman we had brought back from the dead, but rather because the world could be ending and Torchwood would still have paperwork to file. (As per usual those duties fell to me).

Upon the return of the team, Gwen did something stupid (not really a surprise but it's a bitch when it comes to writing up her paperwork) and freed Suzie who had apparently rigged up a complicated escape plan which had an unfortunate side-effect of killing Gwen and locking us in the HUB.

I managed to get service on my mobile by relaying the device using the water tower. Then we promptly lost all of our dignity when Jack decided we should use them to call Agent Swanson. Jack and Owen promptly set off on a valiant chase, but it was Tosh who suddenly turned into a bad-arse and saved the day with a brilliant shot that put all the boys to shame. I told her as such and she blushed the way I did when Jack first suggested phone sex.

The team should be back soon.

Ianto Jones.

-

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I propositioned Jack with a stopwatch last night. I'm still not certain what I was thinking when I did so over a twice-dead former employee: We were without power for a while which means I really should be catching up on paperwork not utilizing my Grandfather's stopwatch in ways that would have made him turn over in his grave, but Jack helped me forget Lisa so many times this was the least I could do.

In those ten minutes that I waited to meet him in his office I wondered: Would he fuck me hard and fast to work off his aggression from Suzie? Or would he fuck me slowly from behind: pretending that I'm Gwen and reassuring himself that she's still alive? The last think I expected was to find him completely starkers and handcuffed to the bed, but there he was: smiling broadly and saying "You have fifteen minutes to make me beg."

I am not quite sure what came over me, but I positively worshipped Jack's body: tasting every inch of his skin with teeth and tongue. I was embarrassed afterwards of my systematic mapping of his hard body: but in the moment I carefully explored the differences of sleeping with a man rather than a woman. I am supremely proud to state hear that I reduced Captain Jack Harkness into a trembling mess: capable of only saying my name.

There was something different about having sex with Jack this time. We had a pleasant second round in the shower and then I made an excuse to leave before I had to think about it.

**Rift Notes**: A small spiky artifact came through the Rift not far from the Hub while the team was on their way back. Tosh and I retrieved it without incident.

**Jack Notes**: Nibbling his left ear produces a high-pitched keening noise that may just be the sexiest noise I have ever heard.

Ianto Jones.


	5. Chapter 5

After witnessing how adept Tosh is with a gun I immediately decided I could use a few hours of shooting practice. After an hour or so of watching me on the CCTV, Jack, having decided that it would be productive for me to learn how to aim while on the receiving end of fellatio, came down to do just that. I'm not sure when that particular skill will come in handy, though Jack has insisted the skill has come in handy on more than one occasion, but I suppose I could always use it as a party trick at the next Torchwood Office party.

**Rift Notes**: Strange energy readings were picked up by the scans at a hit-and-run on the A48. The team is currently on their way to check out the site.

**Jack Notes**: Tweaking his left nipple – hard – results in a delicious deep throated growl that, in the right state of arousal, could probably make me jizz in my pants (God, I hate that song).

Ianto Jones.

-

-

The odd shaped spiky artifact that I had picked up the other day on a routine retrieval began emitting a high pitched beeping noise while the team was checking out the accident. It turned out that the boy in the aforementioned accident was Eugene Jones (the geeky adolescent who follows us all around).

Tosh and Jack swapped places with me so that they could examine the artifact and I went with Gwen and Owen to Eugene's home. We had to pick up his computer and things just in case he actually had anything of importance on us, but the situation seems pretty cut and dry. Despite this, Gwen seems obsessed with the situation (I can see a lot of myself in him. I suppose Gwen might do the same).

It would be nice that Gwen is showing some of that 'heart' Jack is always raving about, if she didn't keep leaving printouts of useless information all over the HUB for me to clean up.

Ianto Jones

-

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Jack moped around in his office all day today because Gwen didn't have her mobile on. He sent the rest of us home early which suited me just fine because it meant I was able to drive up to the North Wales Astronomy Society Convention at the Aberystwth University's Science and Natural History Museum on Black Holes and the Uncertainty Principle.

I was discussing the theories of time travel with a Professor Jones (It's an annoyingly common and therefore inconvenient surname most of the time) whom I had exchanged a few e-mails with on the subject, when I spotted Gwen across the way. I ducked behind a large fern to avoid being spotted: she was apparently investigating the Eugene Jones case and I was not about to admit that I was there out of interest in the subject matter. Not that I should be embarrassed, in a career like ours it proves useful to be up to date on such matters and at the very least the theories provide dinner conversation with Jack (he's happiest when debunking current scientific methods).

**Rift Notes**: A potted cactus came through the rift. After running a series of diagnostics, and determining that it was, in fact, a cactus, Owen made room for it on his desk by sliding some papers to the floor. Who knew Owen liked Botany. (Well, I did of course. I know everything, but the surprise that Owen likes taking care of something still stands).

-

-

Gwen was out again all day today which meant Jack acted out of sorts and had Tosh track Gwen's mobile on the screens. Owen spent the day grumbling as well: He said it was because she should be doing actual work and not wandering about willy-nilly. In a desperate bid to get them out of the Hub so I could have a few minutes of silence to fill out requisition forms, I sent them all out to Eugene's memorial to pick up Gwen and the Eye.

Of course, that's when something exciting happened and I missed Gwen almost getting hit by a car. To quell my disappointment I lowered Owen's desk chair by exactly one inch. He is now convinced that the apocalypse is coming (again) because he feels like 'something is a bit off'.

Jack didn't ask me to stay so I went home.

Ianto Jones.

-

-

I had my meeting with Doctor Davies tonight, which meant another day without sex. Davies is worried about the psychological repercussions of fucking the man who killed my girlfriend. He thinks that it isn't healthy, and I'm not inclined to disagree with him.

But I don't think I can stop myself.

Ianto Jones.

-

-

The photocopy machine in the archives is broken. I spent the better half of the morning with my shirtsleeves rolled up and my arms elbow deep in alien altered machinery. The physical effort meant that the claustrophobia-inducing room quickly became stifling with a cloying heat. Irritation at the uncooperative machine set me up to the kitchens for a glass of water with printer ink spread across my arms and face and my white dress shirt soaked with sweat.

Jack appeared suddenly, as if he had a sixth sense which clued him in whenever my suit jacket has left my person.

_"What happened to you?" He asked, his voice dropping down into the slightly hoarse register caused by arousal._

_"Been trying to fix the bloody copier," I grunted, pouring myself a tall glass of ice cold water from the filtration I had rigged to the pipes._

_"We have a copy machine?" Jack asked: his eyes seemed to darken further with lust at the idea._

_"Do you know nothing about the Hub?" My exasperation knows no bounds._

_"I know things that would make your hair curl." He stepped closer to me, lining up against my back so that his erection strained against the curve of my arse. He pressed several butterfly kisses to the back of my neck before I shoved him away._

_"It's too hot," I grumbled, "Besides the others could walk in here at any moment."_

_"They never come in here," He mumbled, trying to pull me back to him."_

_"They do when they want me to make them more coffee," I told him pointedly and escaped out of his grasp and down into the archives._

I'm certain the team must have realized something is up by now as Jack ran after me down into the archives and proceeded to fuck me against cabinets AAA-AD.

**Jack Notes**: Most likely grew up on a desert planet or perhaps 51st century Africa, because he mentioned growing up having sex in places hotter than the archives.

**Rift Note**s: Tosh's Rift Predictor program is indicating a large arrival over the airfield. We've alerted air traffic control and Tosh managed to secure a specific timeframe so Torchwood will be waiting.

Ianto Jones.

PS: I hope it's good aliens this time.


End file.
